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SERMON
Some of you, I suspect, found today's story had a vaguely familiar ring to it. Let's face it; even in the best of families there can sometimes be conflict and hurt feelings. If you're one of those remarkable people who always get along perfectly with everyone, you probably won't have much use for these thoughts today. But if, like me, you occasionally wrestle with misunderstandings and bruised egos, perhaps we can glean some insight from this ancient story of God's people about conflict resolution and what makes for peace in the family.
By way of review, the story of Abram and his nephew, Lot, is part of the backdrop of the first great migrations of the Hebrews - migrations that eventually led them to settle in the Promised Land (which used to be called Canaan). Abram and his nephew had been living in the city of Ur, about thirty miles from the Persian Gulf on the banks of the Euphrates River. They had been living there in urban comfort and security when God singled out Abram and told him to pack up and head west, knowing nothing about his destination - except for God's word that it was "a land that I will show you."
So Abram obeyed. He moved out with a good deal of faith, and very little else going for him. Lot, a young orphan, went along with his uncle and his family on what must have seemed like an endless journey. They traveled up the Euphrates valley as far as
Haran, where they managed to amass a tidy little nest egg. Then they moved out west to Canaan, to the Promised Land.
Unfortunately it must not have seemed very promising (since they were facing a severe famine at the time). So the family promptly packed up and moved south to Egypt, where their visit was brief and troubled (as we learned last week). Surprisingly, they came out of that experience in Egypt financially very well-off. Although one would have to say that Abram used rather devious means to acquire his wealth there.
In fact, by the time they returned to Canaan, Lot (who by this time was an aggressive young adult) and his uncle Abram were experiencing some serious conflict. But the conflict wasn't over their shared poverty; it was over their separate wealth. Evidently Abram had been having trouble with Lot from the time they left Egypt until they reached Canaan. The story line is familiar; all you have to do is substitute new names and faces.
While they were poor, both uncle and nephew had gotten along well enough. In fact, as a young boy, Lot had probably modeled himself after his adopted father, Abram. But then they began amassing some serious wealth. And evidently it wasn't long before Lot was no longer content to simply tend his uncle's flocks. He wanted some flocks of his own.
Like the prodigal son, Lot wanted his share of the family fortune, and he wanted it now! But unlike the prodigal son, Lot wasn't about to squander it. No, he planned to get rich quick and then retire in total financial independence at an early age. And evidently Lot was a good businessman. I say that because, by the time they reached Canaan, the flocks of both Abram and Lot had grown so immense that there didn't appear to be enough grazing land for both.
Soon quarrels broke out between the herdsmen: those loyal to Lot and those working for Abram. And these men were not only exchanging those singularly offensive epithets that seasoned herdsmen seem to have a gift for concocting. Apparently they were beginning to exchange blows as well. They were using the rod and the staff (which were meant to comfort the sheep) to clobber the other shepherds. This was rapidly becoming a volatile situation.
But before things got out of hand, Abram made a remarkably generous offer to his nephew. "Let's not have any quarreling between you and me," he said to Lot. "Is not the whole land before you? Let's part company. If you go to the left, I'll go to the right; if you go to the right, I'll go to the left." So Lot looked around; and it didn't take a discriminating eye to recognize that the entire Jordan valley had water to spare. In fact it looked like the Garden of Eden compared to that land to the west - Canaan - with its barren hills and scrub grass and occasional water holes.
Canaan had no towns of any consequence. But out in the Jordan valley were the already great cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. And for an already rich young man with dreams of early retirement what could be more appealing than having all the advantages of city life based on country wealth! And here Abram was letting him have it for the asking! So that family parted company, and their parting was peaceful when it could have been violent. Did Abram harbor any secret regrets about Lot's choice? The Bible doesn't say. I suspect Lot felt grateful (and probably a bit smug) that he had managed to get exactly what he wanted, and do it without a fight.
Before long, Abram and his caravan continued into the barren hills of Canaan - that strangely forbidding Promised Land. Meanwhile, Lot's train rolled out into that fertile valley - a valley that, in just a few short years, would become a wasteland. According to the story, when Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed, their destruction yielded the Dead Sea; which is still known to this day in Arabic as the "Sea of Lot."
The parting of Abram and Lot is a fascinating piece of history. But perhaps it can also be taken as a kind of true-to-life parable. And like all parables, it has a point to make. Here's the point: When togetherness becomes oppressive, parting company may be the most expedient way out. But there's a kicker - an aftershock, to that point. Parting company does not mean that the real causes of the problem have been dealt with, or even recognized, for that matter!
What do you think? Do you suppose Abram and Lot could have worked out their differences - that is, if they had really wanted to stay together? I believe they could have. Of course we've assumed that Lot wanted out no matter what. And as we've already learned in their brief sojourn in Egypt, Abram was the sort of man who valued peace at any price - even if it meant breaking up the family.
Of course it's quite plausible that Abram and Lot were engaged in an escalating power struggle, one that could have ended in a bloody war if concessions hadn't been made. There are certainly plenty of chilling examples of that kind of brutal impasse being played out right now, today, in the West Bank, in North Africa, in Eastern Europe, and in places much closer to home.
Now, if that was what was happening between Abram and Lot, if they were deadlocked and tempers were approaching flashpoint, then the two of them are to be commended that they managed to separate in peace without either one doing to the other what Cain had done to Abel (and for much the same reasons). But mark my words: Except in those cases where you're trying to avoid murder or at least serious bloodshed, permanently separating the parties involved is seldom the answer.
We tried that, you may know, in this country about a century and a half ago. In the early nineteenth century the practice of human slavery in America was attracting increasing worldwide criticism. Now, there was a group called the American Colonization Society who thought they could resolve the slavery issue by simply separating the parties. So they shipped a few thousand ex-slaves back to what later became Liberia. Tragically, most of them died soon after arriving because of the rigors of an unfamiliar, hostile environment.
Meanwhile, the Colonization Society's scheme managed to ease the consciences of many American Christians who might have otherwise joined the abolitionists. But they didn't join because they had convinced themselves that a peaceful, convenient separation of the parties would let them avoid the fundamental issue of human justice. Soon thereafter, as you know, this nation was plunged into a tragic civil war.
But even though the Abram-Lot formula didn't work back then, it is still a tempting solution. And so we throw up an iron curtain - or a bamboo curtain - or a Berlin wall - or checkpoints along the West Bank. Folks, they won't stand. They cannot stand. It is becoming increasingly evident that we who inhabit this tiny planet cannot survive without each other; no matter how hard we try to isolate the parties.
But you know there is also a very personal, a very individual sense in which the Abram-Lot formula for conflict resolution is quite tempting. For example, you and I might have a disagreement. Either one of us might become annoyed by the other's irritating habits. (Incidentally, if they're yours I'll call them "irritating habits." But if they're mine I'd prefer we call them "personal idiosyncrasies.") In cases like these, which happen all the time, the parable of Uncle Abram reminds us that the most expedient way to deal with a strained relationship is to avoid it!
The easiest way to handle conflict has always been to ignore it. And, folks, it happens every day - between business associates, between friends and lovers, between teachers and administrators; it happens in families and marriages; and yes, it happens even in churches and among Christians. But mark my words. You can turn away and say, or at least imply: "I don't want to talk about it! But that tactic will neither heal the hurt nor relieve the animosity. It will only serve to create a world with more ulcers, and more people who have forgotten what it means to really talk with each other.
I suspect that's why our Lord gave us such explicit instructions. To those of us who have been called out of this world in order to live in this world as a demonstration community of what it means to be "one in the Spirit," this is the substance of what Jesus said in Matthew 5:23: "If you're at worship, and remember there's a grudge being nursed along, drop everything and go! Ask forgiveness where forgiveness is needed, make restitution where it is appropriate, and be as free with your forgiveness of others as God in his mercy has forgiven you. Then come back to worship."
That bit of instruction in Matthew 5 is the only place I know of in the Gospels where Jesus singled out anything as being more important than worshiping our Father. He said that making things right with your brother or sister, your wife or your husband, your friend, your business associate or your fellow-Christian has a higher priority than even acts of devotion to God. Because without reconciliation (that is, without gutsy, willful renewing of trust and good faith) acts of devotion to God are empty ritual. And that's the Gospel truth.
So in light of our Lord's command, let me ask you one question: Should you be here in worship right now? Is there someone with whom you need to spend some time getting things out and dealt with? Does that seem like an impossible task? Well, you can rest assured that Jesus wouldn't have given us that command unless he was ready to help us do the impossible. I wouldn't presume to tell you that everything will turn out "happily ever after." But I promise you this: it will turn out right.
So let's pray: Father, you know how much we need the courage to take that first, tentative step in setting things right in our relationships; and that courage is what we ask for now. You know the places where we have chosen the expedient way out - avoiding any substantive contact; allowing relationships to hang in suspended animation. We need your help to do the hard work of reconciliation; to allow new life to blossom in some strained, tired relationships. Help us, please; so that as we speak the truth in love, we might discover the life you offer us in Jesus Christ your Son, our Lord.
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